


Thursday Night Drinks

by what_the_nesmith



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4408151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_the_nesmith/pseuds/what_the_nesmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgan asks Reid out for drinks after work and Reid can't figure out what that means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday Night Drinks

In all honesty, Reid hadn’t given much thought to personal relationships outside of certain circumstances. Or how personal relationships overlap with work relationships, and vice versa. In fact, Reid hadn’t given any thought to the latter so much so that when Morgan asked him out for drinks after work, it never occurred to him the maybe Morgan wasn’t viewing things as platonically as Reid was understanding. 

So on Thursday, when work was finishing up, Morgan came over to Reid’s little space and waited for Reid to pack up his stuff, since he would be driving Reid to the bar, then home. And when Reid noticed that no one else was sticking around, he asked, “Are we meeting the others at the bar?” 

A frown creased Morgan’s brows but was quickly replaced by a simply quizzical look. 

“What others?” he asked in return. 

“Well… the others going out for drinks with us tonight…,” Reid said, his brain making a few calculations so that as soon as he said it, he knew what was happening. 

His heart slowed a bit, a tiny fraction, before speeding up, a tiny bit, a tiny fraction. Morgan had asked only him out for drinks tonight. It would just be him and Morgan… alone. 

“No one else is coming, unless you invited someone else,” Morgan answered. 

“I didn’t,” Reid said, a little too quickly for his liking, too close to blurting. 

“Okay, good then. Hurry up, pretty boy, I’m not going to wait all night for you to get your stuff together,” Morgan chuckled and made his way to the parking lot. 

Reid scrambled to catch up. Both physically, and mentally. Was there any significance in this outing? Just him and Morgan, all alone together… Should Reid even put much thought into these drinks? He didn’t know and, if Reid was honest with himself, he didn’t like not knowing. For instance, he didn’t want to be over analysing this situation because what if Derek Morgan just thought of this as a friendly after-work shindig? Yet, on the other hand, what if Derek Morgan meant this to be on a more personal level, like friends or… or something a little more friendly? 

“Come on Reid,” Morgan called out a little impatiently, as Reid appeared in the parking lot. 

“Right here,” Reid called back, scurrying over to Morgan’s car, train of thought derailed. 

He clambered into the passenger’s side as Morgan got in on the driver’s. There wasn’t a lot of talk during the drive, just a few standard starters that Reid tried out. But of course there wasn’t much time for actual talk, considering in only a few minutes, Morgan was pulling into the parking lot of the bar he had chosen for the evening. Morgan got out and hurried over to the other side of the car, opening the door for Reid before he could do that for himself. 

“I can open doors myself, you know,” Reid pointed out to him as he got out of the car. Morgan shut it and locked the vehicle. 

“I know that, but I just thought I’d be extra nice to you,” Morgan said with a wink. 

Reid frowned as he followed Morgan into the bar. He barely registered the name of the establishment. His mind was too preoccupied with what Morgan had said. What did he mean by that? Did he mean anything by that? This evening was turning out to be more confusing than some of the case’s they worked on at the BAU. Morgan and Reid grabbed a free table. 

“So, what do you want to drink? Tonight will be my treat,” Morgan inquired. 

“Your treat?” Reid questioned. 

“C’mon, man, we’ve had a long day, lighten up a bit. You’re all tense,” Morgan laughed. 

Reid liked that laugh. He needed to stop worrying so much about this evening. Whatever Morgan’s agenda was, he’d find out sooner or later. But Reid hated not knowing things. 

“I’ll take wine, red, if they have it. Any kind will do,” Reid finally answered. 

Morgan nodded and headed off to the actual bar. Reid sat alone, thinking, like he always was. He read Morgan was relaxed, but there was a twitch to his hands, always moving, that would indicate that he was nervous. Nervous yet relaxed. And his pupils were dilated. What was Derek up to? 

“Alright, here is your drink of the night,” Morgan announced as he came back, not too long after he had left. 

He placed a full glass of wine in front of Reid and sat across from him, a scotch in front of him. 

“Thank you,” Reid said automatically, taking a quick sip. 

“No worries, baby,” Morgan grinned, sipping from his own drink. 

There was a beat of silence between the two men. 

“Morgan, can I ask you what we’re doing here?” Reid piped up after a moment. A brief frown crossed Morgan’s face. 

“We’re just hanging out,” Morgan replied, “I thought after the case, we could use some fun.” 

“It was just a routine case, if anything, a good turn out too, why do we need fun tonight?” Reid pressed. 

Morgan rolled his eyes. Reid could tell that he was getting exasperated a little by the questions. 

“Is it a crime for me to talk my favourite profiler out for drinks?” he retorted. 

“I’m your favourite profiler?” Reid smirked. A flush rushed into Morgan’s cheeks. Something registered with Reid. 

“Sure, yeah, of course you are, pretty boy,” Morgan quickly confirmed. 

Reid felt a warmth in his chest, a smile dominating his face. 

“Okay, sorry I pushed,” he said. 

Morgan scratched at his nose. Reid noted sweaty palms. Nervous yet relaxed. Pupils dilated. All classic signs of dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin flooding the brain and body. 

“No problem. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t spouted some statistic about after-work outings or something,” chuckled Morgan. 

“Well-,” Reid began but Morgan interrupted. 

“No, that wasn’t an invitation to actually spout one,” he quickly said. 

They talked about movies after that. It was just what the conversation drifted towards. Slowly, Reid’s wine glass emptied and Morgan’s scotch disappeared. From movies, they moved on to the topic of which actress had the better personality and then Morgan suggested a second round of drinks.

“Alright, but I’m getting them this time,” Reid insisted. 

“Okay, pretty boy, knock yourself out,” Morgan agreed, holding up his hands. 

Reid stood up and went over to the bar area. He placed his order of another glass of wine and another glass of scotch. Morgan was fixing his shirt, or at least that’s what it looked like to Reid, all the way over where he was. So, dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin, all associated with love. Reid was positive that’s what was running through Morgan’s system, and what he wasn’t entirely sure was why and if the same was running through his. 

“Here you go,” the bartender rumbled, handing over the two glasses. Reid thanked him and paid, tipping as usual. 

Picking up the drinks, Reid made a beeline for the table but halfway there, a burly man rammed right into Reid’s shoulder. Reid was sent stumbling backwards, drinks dropping from his hands and plummeting to the fall. Shattered glass and suddenly Reid’s feet were dangling above the floor. The man who had bumped into him was holding him by the collar of his shirt. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going faggot!” the man roared. His breath stank of alcohol. 

“If anyone was going to be careful, it should be you. You were the one to bump into me, not the other way around,” Reid spoke, the alcohol in his own system making him bolder than usual. 

“What did you say to me?” the man shouted. 

“I said-,” Reid began but suddenly there was a fist colliding with the side of his jaw. 

Reid was sent backwards, landing right in the shattered glass on the floor. Then, just as suddenly as the man had tried to attack Reid, Morgan was there. 

“Look man, we don’t want any trouble,” he was saying, but the man wasn’t listening. 

He threw a punch at Morgan, but Morgan easily dodged it. Instead, Morgan ducked underneath the swing and made it behind the drunk, grabbing his hands and yanking them together, as if he were handcuffing the man. 

“Calm down, no one has to get hurt,” Morgan warned. 

Morgan’s sudden movements seemed to pacify the man. 

“Okay, okay, jeez, sorry to bother you and your bitch,” he mumbled, his muscles relaxing. 

Morgan released him, shoving him roughly forward. 

“Don’t call my boyfriend a bitch, asshole,” Morgan snapped, turning to help Reid up from the floor. 

Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin rushed into Reid’s system. His heart beat a little faster. Boyfriend? 

“Whatever, fags,” the man grumbled, shuffling away. 

“I called the cops,” the bartender suddenly announced, appearing from a back room. 

“We won’t press charges,” Morgan informed him, before turning to Reid, “Let’s get out of here.” 

They exited the bar and got into Morgan’s car without a word. Morgan turned on the lights in the car, turning to Reid. 

“Let me see your hands. Did the glass cut you anywhere else?” he asked. 

Reid stared at Morgan, frowning deeply. There had been an increase in compliments from Morgan in the past few weeks. There had been lingering touches, about .8 seconds longer than the usual casual touch, shared between the two of them exclusively. Yet Morgan had never expressed any interest in the same sex, had never made any indication that he was bisexual, or perhaps pansexual. 

“Reid? Reid, are you okay?” Morgan’s words threw him off of thought. 

“What? Yes, I’m fine, just a few cuts on my hands,” Reid answered, “Nothing serious in any way.” 

“Then why are you looking so confused?” Morgan wanted to know. 

“You called me your boyfriend,” Reid stated. 

Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin, with just a dash of embarrassment and fear. Morgan’s muscles tightened and blood began to circulate faster. His pupils were dilated again. But Reid saw him relax, for the most part. He saw Morgan try to hide what he couldn’t. They were profilers. Neither of them could hide very much and Reid was beginning to catch on. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess I did call you that,” Morgan shrugged, “So what? That homophobic asshole didn’t need to know if we were together or not.” 

“Morgan… I know you hate statistics but this is all leading me to think you asked me out on a date,” Reid said, then added as an after thought, “You even referred to me as more than a friend and defended me, although the last part is also a sign of platonic relationships.” 

“Okay… okay, yeah, you got me, Reid,” Morgan sighed after a moment. 

“Wait, really?” frowned Reid. 

Morgan gave him a look, one eyebrow raised, that screamed “Oh my god, are you that oblivious?”. 

“I couldn’t really make anything public, since we aren’t supposed to fraternize with co-workers, but… I don’t know, I like you Reid. Have for a bit and I thought going out for drinks would be good enough to figure out if you liked me back… god, I sound like a high schooler,” Morgan groaned. 

“High schoolers would be less articulate than you and I,” Reid pointed out. The tension in Morgan seemed to ease slightly. 

“Yeah, guess so… well, let’s call it a night,” Morgan said, seemingly resigned to the idea that the evening was over.

“Morgan,” Reid prompted. Morgan looked at Reid as he started up his car. 

“Hmm?” 

“I hope you didn’t take anything I said the wrong way. I mean, if you have feelings for me, well I believe that I am experiencing those same emotions, which would lead to a mutual attraction,” Reid rattled off. 

Morgan shook his head, a laugh rumbling in his throat. 

“You can’t just say you like me, can you?” Morgan grinned. 

“I do like you, but there’s a varying difference between attraction and love. Both can be felt exclusively, independent of one another, yet for a stable, continued relationship on mutual parties, both attraction and love should be felt,” Reid rambled, just slightly. 

“Alright, so what do you feel?” Morgan asked. 

“Both I guess,” Reid shrugged and was about to continue talking when Morgan leaned over, pressing his mouth against Reid’s. 

It was wonderful. Something Reid had never felt before. He had kissed only three people before, but none of them could compare to this one. Reid could taste the scotch Morgan had drunk, yet there was a more powerful taste, what Reid could only assume was the taste of Morgan himself. The chemical release triggered by the kiss sent Reid’s mind into a confusing onslaught of wanting to think and analysis, yet froze him up at the same time. It seemed to last for hours, yet when they parted, it had only been a few seconds. 

“Wow,” Reid found himself saying. 

“Wow?” Morgan laughed, raising a questioning eyebrow at Reid. 

“Sorry, I just… wow,” Reid frowned. 

“So… do you want to continue this evening or…?” Morgan tentatively began. 

“Um, no, sorry, it’s late and I need eight hours of sleep,” said Reid. 

“Eight hours of sleep?” Morgan repeated, almost as if he didn’t believe Reid, but Reid was being truthful. 

“Everyone’s body, especially teenagers, need exactly eight hours of sleep to function, and I find that if I get exactly eight, then my performance at work is increased by 12%, whereas-,” Reid explained but Morgan held up his hand to stop him from continuing. 

“Okay, okay, fine, I’ll take a rain check. What do you want to do this weekend?” Morgan asked, as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

There was an unexplainable warm feeling in Reid’s chest. Adrenaline was in his system and part of him wanted to take back his eight hour rule, wanted to tell Morgan that sleep didn’t matter to him, not right now. But the larger majority of him knew he’d be useless and 12% less efficient tomorrow morning at a job that required him at his best. But there was always this weekend. Reid smiled to himself. Tonight hadn’t been bad at all.


End file.
